


Cold Blooded

by fckyeahgallavich



Series: Requests/Prompts [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cute, Drabble, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: Mickey likes to wear layered outfits. With his shirts and then another shirt over it, maybe even a light jacket over it too, you know those typical Mickey outfits we see on the show. Ian thought it was a fashion choice but it turns out that Mickey gets easily cold. Only when it is really hot outside he wears his cutoff sleeve outfits. So Ian makes sure that Mickey always stays warm. ... Could you make a cute story out of it?





	Cold Blooded

A thought suddenly occurred to Ian as he watched Mickey get dressed one morning…

Normally Ian was up and active before Mickey and so he’d never just…  _ watched  _ him get dressed. At first, as Mickey pulled the soft cotton shorts of his boxer briefs up his legs and over that supple backside, Ian had considered trying to tease him into bed, a small thrill of warmth filling his core. But he laid back and admired his toned back as Mickey threw on a tank top… a short sleeve shirt… and a flannel before pulling on a pair of dark wash jeans.

“You goin somewhere?” Ian asked, nonchalant. Mickey turned and seemed to recognize for the first time that Ian was awake. He shook his head, brow arched.

“Why d’you ask, you need somethin?” Ian shook his head no and sat up in bed.

“You got on three layers!” Ian pointed out as though it was obvious.

“Yeah, it’s always fuckin freezin in this place,” Mickey pointed out with a similar tone. Ian’s brows rose in surprise and realization. He had the most sudden urge to go turn off the AC — he must have had it too high! — but Mickey would change it right back, not wanting to be fussed over.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Ian asked directly — it was a new thing they were trying, being direct. And while it did help avoid fights, it also made shit weird because… Seriously, does everything need to be fucking talked over and hammered out?

Mickey just shrugged again.

"I got layers, I don't give a shit." Mickey zipped up his jacket (well, Ian's jacket, but they shared a closet and borrowed whatever they wanted whenever and the system hadn't caused an issue yet so Ian supposed it worked) and Mickey walked out their bedroom door to take up the last of the brewed coffee.

Ian collapsed back in bed and considered what he should do with this realization…

…….

They’d finally found a studio apartment that was in a decent location and that they could afford with just enough wiggle room to start their own squirrel fund (the ghetto rainy-day fund in their case as opposed to the survival fund of Ian’s childhood). This apartment was very easy to cool down, Ian had been delighted to learn, but evidently it was  _ too  _ easy to cool. Mickey walked around their hardwood apartment with socks on his feet at all times, something Ian realized one day that he actually  _ always  _ kept his socks on no matter where he was.

“‘Ey, Mick?” Ian called from the open bathroom door as he started brushing his teeth. Mickey shuffled into his view, brows raised expectantly.

“You rang?” Ian rolled his eyes and grinned through the foam, brushing the left top row.

“Shut up, you coulda shouted back,” Ian replied before spitting out the froth.

“Yeah, only for your Grandpa ears to not hear me and for you to scream ‘What?! WHAT?!’ until I made my way over here anyway,” Mickey teased, moving into the bathroom to brush his own teeth. Ian rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, knowing it was true.

“You always wear socks indoors? Like, even as a kid?” Mickey’s brows furrowed.

“I already told you, didn’t I?” He stated just before placing the brush in his mouth. Ian shrugged and spit another froth-ful out.

“Yeah about the apartment, and you won’t let me turn the AC up!” Ian goaded.

“You didn’t have a problem before I said anything so I ain’t fuckin with it. I got layers,” Mickey shot back. They stood in silence, only the bristles running along their teeth filling the small space. Mickey spit and rinsed his brush. Ian smirked, a teeny tickle of butterflies warming his stomach from how amusing it always was that Mickey clearly didn’t  _ actually  _ give two shits about a thorough brush — just a simple run-over. Ian spit and rinsed his own brush. Before his partner left the area, Ian called after him.

“So you’re just… cold natured?” Mickey turned back around to look at him, brows furrowed again.

“I dunno, I guess so. Why’re you so fascinated by my temperature all of the sudden?” Ian shrugged and grinned at him.

“Don’t want to freeze you out of your own house,” he replied tenderly. Mickey’s expression softened just the slightest bit and Ian smiled in victory.

“Socks don’t offend me, Gallagher. I don’ need any accommodations from you,” Mickey shot back casually before going about his business.

About two weeks later, Ian noticed that Mickey was wearing  _ two  _ pairs of socks and a thin sweater under his hoodie while they were sitting on the couch watching Seagal.  _ The fuck?  _ Ian thought to himself, but didn’t say anything. During a slow moment, a part he’d seen a million times and didn’t need to see it now, he snuck away from the couch and returned with their spare comforter reserved for layering over their ususal one in the cold months, and draped it over Mickey’s lap, taking special care to ensure his feet were covered. Mickey was so invested in the movie that he had completely tuned Ian out, to Ian’s amusement, and simply stuck his fingers into the comforter, burrowing them into the material. Ian resumed his usual spot and Mickey, without shifting his eyes away from the TV, lifted the comforter up so Ian could fit back into his spot. Ian’s shy smile lifted at the corners of his mouth as he settled into the sofa. Mickey’s hands returned to their position burrowed into the comforter and Ian returned his attention to the movie.

The next day, Ian found a huge, soft, plush throw blanket in a gorgeous deep blue color. This fucker would be big enough to swallow their mattress on both sides! But as soon as he returned home, Ian took the gargantuan blanket, unfolded it to roughly a quarter of its size, and draped it on the back of the sofa.

Fast forward two hours, Ian wandered into the main living area from the bathroom to find Mickey sitting in his usual spot on the couch, blue blanket wrapped loosely over him to cover his feet and neck, but his flannel and jeans apparently kept him warm enough on his major extremities. 

Ian walked over and planted a loud kiss on the top of Mickey’s head and his boyfriend flailed at the affection.

“The fuck was that for?” He demanded more in confusion than irritation. Ian grinned and shrugged, turning to go to the kitchen area and start fixing them something for dinner. He heard Mickey settle back into the couch and heard the rustle of the blanket pulling from the top of the couch. By the time Ian turned back around, Mickey was fully swaddled in blanket. He was about to turn the heat up, though he was comfortable, when he noticed a slight pink tint to his partner’s cheeks. Ian smiled to himself and left the thermostat alone.

/////

Out of nowhere, Mickey’s sock drawer started filling with ridiculous fuzzy socks. Some of them were hideous as  _ fuck  _ and some of them belonged in a fuckin Pride parade on the King of Queers representative. Mickey held up a pair with giraffe print and little antlers printed at the top in question. Ian walked in the vicinity at that moment and grinned at him. 

“Why the fuck are fillin my drawer with these…  _ things _ ?”

“So you don’t have to double layer your socks!” Ian beamed proudly. Mickey glowered at him.

“You know… Regular socks are probably  _ half  _ whatever you paid for these... ” he trailed off to demonstrate his distaste. Ian chuckled.

“Actually, I only paid shipping. Those fuckers were  _ free _ !” Mickey scowled and glared at the offensive socks in his hand.

“ _ Clearly…”  _ Ian laughed a deep, full-belly laugh and met Mickey at his dresser. Mickey rifled through his drawer and finally pulled out a pair of regular black Hanes crew cut socks. Ian grinned conspiratorially, waiting to see his next move. He could see it… Ian was waiting to see if Mickey would pull out a second pair of regular socks. Dammit, he didn’t want him to mess with his habits! He was perfectly fine with the way he’d been doing things his whole life! They had the stupid fuckin apartment, he used the (frankly, really nice) blanket he’d gotten for him, he’d entertained the fuzzy socks for bedtime when they were just plain colors, but….  _ Come on!  _ Every man had to have his limits!

Ian’s grin got more and more infuriating as they stared each other down.

“Fine!” Mickey cried, yanking on the ridiculous socks one at a time. Ian’s grin bursted into a complete smile and the freak even fucking  _ blushed  _ at seeing those socks on him! What was  _ wrong  _ with him?! Mickey stepped right into Ian’s space and jabbed a tattooed finger against his chest.

“If you  _ ever  _ tell anyone that I so much as  _ entertained  _ these — ”

“Mick!” Ian interrupted, laughing, “they’re just socks!”

“Yeah, and it’s  _ just  _ my fuckin pride!” Ian actually snorted as he tried to restrain his laugh. He held his hand up, scout’s honor.

“I will not tell a  _ soul  _ that you secretly enjoy the adorable socks your loving and equally adorable boyfriend got for you.” Mickey glowered up at him and before Ian could prevent it, he reached out and twisted his nipple through his shirt. “Owwww!  _ OW!”  _ Ian yelped, but through intense laughter that nearly knocked Mickey’s fingers away from his chest.

“You think pretty fuckin highly of yourself, huh, Gallagher?” Mickey teased through gritted teeth. Ian fought to bring him closer, but Mickey kept his distance. He knew the noogie was next on the list of childhood tricks and Mickey was the  _ perfect  _ height for it.

“Hey! ‘EY!” Ian cried, practically screaming in laughter as Mickey twisted it the other way. A laugh burst through Mickey’s chest and mouth as well and they wrestled to the bed. Ian managed to get a solid grip on Mickey’s torso and was preparing to toss him onto their bed, but Mickey dug into the cement floor with the grippers on the bottoms of the socks. 

“Aha!” Mickey cried victoriously, instantly hating himself for making such a ridiculous exclamation. But the outburst was well emphasized with his next move of then tipping  _ Ian  _ onto their bed. Ian scrambled onto the bedspread and quickly looked for a weapon, but seeing none resorted to trying to keep Mickey’s hands to himself. 

Defeat was inevitable, however, and once Mickey straddled Ian’s lap, victory was declared with a devouring kiss.

…….

Okay, so in time Mickey didn’t mind the socks… Not even the stupid ones that shouldn’t be on anyone but a 12 year old girl or an infant. It made Ian happy to see him wear them and… Well, his feet actually were a fuck-ton warmer. He still wore layers out of habit, but now it was less likely that it was because he was freezing his nuts off. Also, all of the extra blankets around meant they were saving on heat bills in the winter because Ian also laid under the enormous blanket with him. They still weren’t the ‘snuggle’ type of couple or anything, but they’d lay on their opposite sides of the couch with their legs woven together under a shared blanket. The damned thing was big enough that they’d never have to fight over it or anything, so they were both usually covered chin to chin.

Even when they eventually bought their house, they kept the heat to a minimum in the winter, choosing instead to bundle up and maintain a mild house. Luckily, there were never complaints from their guests or kids…

Not that Ian would’ve let anyone make Mickey change their routine for anything in the world. If they didn’t like the thermostat, there was the fuckin door.


End file.
